Somewhere, there’s a castle, belongs to me 
                                              but in shanties, I find, I spend my time.
                                                     I can almost see that
                                           tall tower
                                                   where I should be, my hair long, flowing down
and I above it all yet I have relations both at palace and at shack, things
                                                                               contained here and there,
 so pulling.
     I’ve been
            beckoned by the royal court but feel possessed of those in lower rankings.
                                                                     I want to be overruled. 
You know, nothing’s true unless it’s true.  Unless it’s stark and real.
                                                          These voices, undeniable, they know my
                                                            heart or seem to but then so, too, does, he
                                                                  the king.  He says, “Go and sin no
more” but I’m so afraid I might, I do.  It’s warfare in this town and all I want is
                                                                                                              love; that
my biggest driver.  I’m looking for signs in all the wrong places and who is this
                                                                                    woman I’ve become of many
faces,
facets?   Unsteady, swaying like any young
                   tree
                   to whichever wind
                           happens to be
                                             blowing by, holding on,
                                                 only barely, to that
which
wants to let me go.  My purple party
dress is stained in red and I don’t want
              to wear it well but fear I do.  I wander woods
by night, stopping here and there at confit
                                                            cottages and sugared suppositions
when somewhere there’s a castle.

 Jingle Poetry